


Never Let Go

by ARTmeg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brothers, Denial, Drama, Emotional Hurt, Lost Love, Older Brother Sam Winchester, Pray to Castiel, Purgatory, Regret, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARTmeg/pseuds/ARTmeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has lost Castiel to purgatory, but is unable to accept that. Why did it take loosing him for Dean to realize how he felt about his Angel?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> More Destiel
> 
> "Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: It might have been!" - by John Greenleaf Whittier

Dean crouched beside the Angel summoning rune, holding a small match box in his shaking hand.  
   
He was in a back alley behind the Enkeli Motel where he and Sam were staying, indifferent to both the cold and the late hour. It was dark, and despite the few stars glittering faintly above in the strip of night sky, the only steady light came from half a dozen candles around the borders of the rune. Several bowls of various mixes of herbs were lined up to one side, awaiting their turn.  
   
Sliding open the box Dean took out a single match, holding it between two fingers.   
   
There were several pieces of paper around him, spells scribbled in different languages covering both sides. Dean’s eyes scanned the paper closest to him until he found the spell he was looking for.  
   
Striking the match against the side of its box, Dean held it out and chanted, "Zod ah mah rah ma ee es lah gee roh sah Castiel." He tossed the lit match into the bowl in the center of the rune and there was a bright flash of light as it ignited, fire springing up out of the dry leaves and various other ingredients. Waiting, Dean stared into the center of the circle, desperate for Cas to appear. After all, you know what they say; twentieth time's the charm.   
   
But once again nothing happened. Suddenly angry, Dean picked up the still smoldering bowl of herbs and hurled it against the wall where it shattered, the pieces of ceramic falling to join those of a dozen other bowls. He bent his head forward, resting his face in his hands, struggling to hold back his tears.   
   
He was reaching for another bowl of herbs to try the next spell when he sensed a presence behind him. But he was sure who it was and refused to look around.   
   
What he knew to be Sam's footsteps stopped only feet away from him. There was a long pause before Sam spoke, "You've been trying to get him out for the past three nights; you need to get some sleep."  
   
Dean took his hands away from his face but still didn't turn around, "You expect me to sleep when Cas is stuck in the middle of Purgatory?"  
   
"He's gone Dean, you won't be able to summon him. Not when he's still trapped in there," said Sam quietly.  
   
Dean hated the sympathy he heard in Sam's voice. Standing up in one smooth motion, he turned and angrily strode over to Sam till he was only a foot away, "You expect me to just give up on him then? like you gave up on me?"   
   
It was a low blow, but Dean felt satisfied when Sam looked away, ashamed.   
   
"I failed Cas, and now he's fighting alone against Leviathans and all the rest of those sons of bitches," continued Dean. "And now that I'm gone, he will have the undivided attention of every evil thing in Purgatory."   
   
But Sam wouldn't back down; he couldn't bear to see his brother torturing himself like this. When he spoke, Sam's voice was gentle, but firm, "You’ve tried everything, I'm sorry Dean, but Castiel's gone. It's terrible what happened, but there really is nothing we can do.”  
   
"I can’t just accept that," said Dean eventually.   
   
Sam raised his hand, as though to rest it on Dean's shoulder, but then seemed to think better of it and lowered it again to his side, "I understand how you feel, I miss him too."  
   
This made Dean’s anger flare again and it took all his self control to keep himself from shoving Sam, "Don't ever think you know what I'm feeling. You could never understand!"   
   
"Why, because you loved him?" said Sam, his own anger rising up.   
   
Dean took a step back looking startled, "I don't..." This was the last thing he had expected Sam to say and it had disarmed him.  
   
But Sam was relentless, "I do know Dean. I know what it's like; to have somebody you love with all your heart and then lose them because you failed to protect them."  
   
Clenching his fist Dean looked away, "Whatever I may or may not feel for Cas doesn't matter, because I'll never have the opportunity to... To tell him how I..." Taking a deep shaky breath, Dean swiped away his tears with his sleeve before they could fall. When he spoke, his voice was like a small child's, "I need him Sammy."  
   
Sam wrapped his arms around Dean, and it was as though their roles were reversed. Dean had always taken care of Sam, played the role of the older brother. But now Dean felt as though he was the one who needed taking care of. He hated feeling so helpless- it scared him.   
   
Resting his forehead against Sam's shoulder Dean closed his eyes. He was so tired; tired of being strong. Tired of faking a smile and soldiering on, just to be beaten down again. After everything, he deserved this moment of weakness, didn't he?  
   
Sam had been right, he did love Cas. Why had it taken losing him for Dean to realize that?  
   
.   .    .  
   
Laying on his back in his bed, Dean listened to Sam's deep, steady breathing coming from the opposite side of the room. He was exhausted, but his thoughts wouldn't settle and allow him to sleep. Finally he closed his eyes, speaking in his mind; "Castiel, I know you can't hear me anymore... but I don't have anybody else to pray to. I've always been terrible at this stuff, but I guess you know that better than anyone."  
   
Dean paused, trying to sort out his thoughts, and feeling pretty stupid for praying to somebody who couldn't hear him. But then again, wasn't that like almost every other prayer people offer? People had been praying to somebody who doesn’t hear, or perhaps just doesn’t care, for hundreds of years. "I won't stop hoping, and I will never stop praying to you. Stupid, I know, but we both know what I'm like."

There was a long pause before Dean silently continued praying, "My Angel, I will find a way to get you out. And when I do, I'll never let you go.")  
 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to YumeNoTsuzuki for her beta! ( http://archiveofourown.org/users/YumeNoTsuzuki )


End file.
